


Roman Brothers

by trebleDeath



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Chibi North Italy (Hetalia), Chibi Romano (Hetalia), Family, Lore - Freeform, foundation myth, idk - Freeform, origin sotry!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 20:14:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12417336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trebleDeath/pseuds/trebleDeath
Summary: Romulus becomes Rome, and has to fight and kill to do that. He doesn't want the same thing to happen to his predecessors whi remind him a little too much of his  brother and himself.





	Roman Brothers

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to write this same fic when I was like thirteen or so. but i didnt want to research myths for long enough, so i gave up. i could probably find the old document, but whatever. have this, five years later. 
> 
> my writing has greatly improved, and my young self would be impressed with myself for living this long and writing this. but idk, i could do bettr, im just trying to crank out a bunch of shit so i can get all this bad work out of the way.

Evander sighed gently as he stirred the soup above the hearth. “Boys, are you ready for dinner?”

Two small voices called out from behind him, exactly where he knew the twins would be seated, “Yes, papa.”

A smile lit up his face. He filled wo carved, wooden bowls and handed them over to the young boys. “How were the sheep today.”

“Good!” Remus was the first to speak, followed closely by his brother.

“We saw a wolf today. It looked like it was with child,”

Remus again, “But we didn’t see any pups.”

“But don’t worry, Papa, she didn’t attack us or the sheep. She just sat and watched.”

Evander sighed softly again, “I suppose that’s an omen.” He sat down with his own bowl of food, “Would you boys like to hear about your mother?”

The boys nodded in unison. 

“Do you remember the story of Aeneas?”

ANother nod before they started reciting, “Aeneas was a prince of Troy,”

“He was a son of Venus.”

“He had to leave Troy with his son and his father before the Greeks killed him.”

“He was blessed by the gods to settle the Latins,”

“And Julus passed down the bloodline of the gods.”

He smiled at the boys, “Very good. Do you know where the Julian bloodline ends?”

They both nodded, “The king.”

He shook his head, “That’s what the king wants us to believe. He killed the true king to get the power, but let his daughter live. She really was beautiful like a daughter of Venus. She was allowed to live as long as she was a vestal virgin but guess what happened.”

Romulus giggled, “She broke her oath.”

Evander shook his head, “She was as pure as a child. But Mars had a different plan for her. She gave birth to not one, but two sons, you two. But the false king was threatened by you, the child of both Venus and Aries, and you two were left by the river.”

“And you found us!”

He shook his head, “You must have been left alone for months. When I found you, you could sit, almost stand. Now, I don’t know much about the gods’ children, but even the strongest babies can’t sit up straight out of the womb.”

Romulus giggled again, Remus only frowned, “How are we alive. Even if we were children of Mars, we would die.”

“A lupa, a she wolf raised you as her pups. I swear you learned to bark before you learned to talk,” He chuckled, “But, the lupa is back, and she wants you to do what is right. I suppose the other gods want it as well.”

“What do we do, papa?”

Another sigh escaped the old shepherd, “I fear you must kill the king. He is not a Julian, and you are. It is your rightful place.” 

Again, Remus frowned, “But, Papa, we are but children.”

Romulus elbowed his brother, “Children of gods. If we were not meant to do it now, lupa would not be here. If it is the right time, the gods will not let us fail.” With a grin, he finished eating his soup and stood to go to bed. Remus stayed behind, staring pensively at the grain of the bowl. 

Evander reached over and pat his hand gently, “He is right, your duty is to the gods.”

 

The next morning, Romulus went out to tend the sheep. Remus usually followed him closely, but the other was still in bed after a night of fitful sleeping, and he was too impatient to wait. 

He went to go unpen the sheep only to find an older man sitting among them. Ignoring his chores for the new company, he skipped over to the man. “Who are you.”

The man smiled, “Do they not teach the youth of the Great Julus anymore?”

“I was taught, But you are not him. You need to go before I go get my papa.”

The smile stayed on the man’s face, “How do you know I’m not Julus?”

“He’s dead.”

“He was no mortal man. No leader of a nation can be killed so easily. You will find this soon enough.”

Romulus tilted his head, “Was he like achilles?”

“No, he wasn’t. He was a different type of immortal. Come here.” 

Hesitantly, the boy stepped forward. 

Once he was within reach, the older man grabbed his wrist and drew a knife. In a quick motion, he slashed it across his forearm. 

He let out a shrill scream, squeezing his eyes shut. He knew what happened when you touched a knife--you bled. 

No pain came, aside from a slight sting. Slowly, he opened his eyes only to see his arm still whole. Still, his scream attracted attention from the house. He could already hear the rushed footfalls of Remus as he tried to run through the field to his brother. 

“Rom, what are you doing with him? Are you hurt?” His breathing was ragged as he reached his brother’s side.

“I’m fine, Remus.” He pulled his arm away from the old man. “I tripped and he helped me.”

Remus frowned, possibly sensing the lie, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned to look the man up and down. “Who is he.”

Romulus just shrugged, “Dunno.”

Julus let out a laugh, “I didn’t think there were two of you. This is interesting. Hey boys, do you want to hear a prophecy?”

Remus’ frown only grew deeper as he grabbed his brother’s hand, “We’re good. You’re not even a priest I bet.”

Romulus pulled his hand away, “No, I want to hear. But, are you a priest?”

“I already told you, kid. I’m better than a priest, I’m a son of Venus. I am Julus, immortal being, the embodiment of Latium. Being a priest would be an insult to who I already am.”

Remus sneered, “You are not. Julus is dead, and I’ve never heard of an embodiment of anything.”

Romulus shoved his brother gently, “Shut up, I want to hear the prophecy.”

“No your brother is right, why should he believe me, especially when I haven’t even done any prophecy rituals. Here, let’s perform a haruspice, but what will be our sacrifice.”

Both sets of young eyes traveled to the sheep in the pen, but neither of them said a word.

“Allright, then I get to choose.” Before a word of protest could be spoken, he grabbed Remus and pulled him close, driving the knife he used to previously attack Romulus with into his fleshy stomach. This time two shrieks sounded, yet nothing happened. 

Remus was shoved back to his brother. This time he clutched at his younger brother’s arm, tears slowly falling down his cheeks. 

“See, both of you are immortal brats, what makes you doubt I’m immortal?”

Neither of them spoke. 

Julus continued, “I don’t even need a liver to tell you what’s going to happen to you two. You’re going to gatehr a following for a political reason, maybe someone wronged you or your parents. But let me tell you, those people likely aren’t your parents. No one knows where we come from, we just appear with royal blood in our brains and ambitions in our heads.”

“Us? Are there other sons of gods?”

“Please don’t interrupt me. But yes. One for each civilization you could think of. So do not think you are special. They look just like humans, but you’ll learn to recognize them in time. Now, as I was saying, no one knows where we came from, but you’re functionally immortal. Only other sons of gods can kill you, but you have to weaken the population first. You two are but wee children though, not even a following to your name. You haven’t even started to grow, but you will. Now for the prophecy.

“You both have the same namesake, Rome. Only one of you will survive to see your civilization flourish, the other will surely die.”

Remus’ grip of Romulus only tightened. “Why can’t we both be the embodiment of Rome?”

“You just can’t. Look at Egypt, how the two of them were constantly battling for full control. Or Greece and all those idiots trying to claim they’re the same.” He scoffed, “You are different. You can’t rule together.”

Romulus scoffed in turn, “I bet we can, you’ll see. The gods wouldn’t have made two of us if we weren’t meant to rule together.”

Julus rolled his eyes, “Whatever you want to think. I just thought I should tell you before Etruria or Gaul learn about you and decide to kill you. If I were you, I’d refuse to gather a following, if your people can’t be attacked, you can’t either.”

Remus gave a solemn nod while Romulus just stared at the older man as he got up and walked away. 

 

The seven years that it took for the boys to gather followers, learn to fight, build, farm and lead turned Remus into a nervous, irate teen, while they shaped Romulus into a cocky showoff. 

Though, that didn’t stop either of them doing what their surrogate father insisted had to be done. The king was killed, and the two of htem had to build a city for their people. 

Seven hills stretched out before them, a river running through them and vast fields stretching out from all sides. Any hill would have been fine to build on, in retrospect. But, the gods had a plan, they always did. And Augery was the only way to figure out the plan. 

Remus was the first to see anything, six vultures. Then Romulus with twelve. Hence their current argument. 

“I saw them first, Romulus, my hill is the correct one.”

“But I saw twelve. All twelve gods were present on my hill.”

“But I was first. Why would the gods even give me a sign if I was wrong?”

“I’m not saying you’re wrong, I’m saying you’re just not as right sa I am.”

“I bet half og your vultures were just my vultures flying your direction. It’s not a real decision if it’s recycled.”

“No, it is. It just means the gods wanted you to turn your attention over here.” He gestured wildly behind him to the hill he had stood on. 

“That’s bullshit. I don’t even think you saw twelve vultures, they don’t fly in that big of packs.”

“Which is why it’s more significant! The gods had a hand in it if it can’t happen naturally.”

Remus scoffed, “I still saw my birds first. And I’m older, so that proves I’m right.”

Romulus rolled his eyes, “Whatever, let’s ask the people.” He turned to face the small crowd that had amassed to watch the argument. “Who do you think is right. Remus or myself.”

Murmurs filled the air before a clear answer rang out, “Romulus.”

With a smirk, he turned back to his people, “The gods and the people have spoken. My hill--or should I say the gods hill, it is.” 

Scowling, Remus tightly crossed his arms over his chest, but not a word escaped his lips. 

That was fine with Romulus. He turned back to the people, “Let us create a city boundary and dedicate this land to the gods.” He stepped into motion, leading the small crowd as he did. 

Remus stood along the side lines the entire time, refusing to partake in the work. 

Just as the ditch surrounding the hill was connected, he walked over, “That’s a bullshit city limit. It’s just a long hole. You don’t even have a city yet, where will you sleep?”

“The gods will provide.”

He scoffed, “They won’t because this is the wrong hill. And it looks stupid.” He stepped inside the limit, then out, all the while taunting his brother, “Look, I’m in your city, I’m out, now I’m in. This won’t stop anyone.”

Romulus’ eyebrow twitched in irritation, “Shut up, Remus. Just accept it.”

“No, I can’t blindly follow your ridiculous decisions.”

He drew his sword, “Then I can’t allow you to live.” With a fell swoop, he killed his brother. 

In his defence, he didn’t expect it to work. Once or twice throughout the years, they had fought enough for one of them to make a move on the other, but neither of them ever got hurt. Certainly they never died. But there, Remus laid in front of Romulus, bleeding out and twitching with his last breaths. 

Romulus wiped the blood off his blade with the hem of his tunic, adding another bloodstain to match the one he got from slaying the king. He resheathed his sword and turned to the people, “Come, let us go into our city.”

No one moved. Eventually, one brave soul spoke up, “Sir, we cannot associate with a perpetrator of fratricide. Surely the gods will come after us as they come after you.”

He shook his head, “Remus, a child of the gods, could not have died in anyway unjust. He mocked the gods and the city they chose for us, he blatantly called them wrong. I was called to kill him, I could not have if it were not meant to be. If I was wrong, may the gods strike me dead now.”

He opened his arms wide in an invitation to be smitten. But no death came. 

Slowly, he lowered his arms and addressed the people again. “I regret having to hurt my twin. But it must be done. My allegiance is to the gods first and foremost. I have no doubt that I will die once I have fulfilled my duty to them, and to you. But for now, we must continue on.”

Again, no one said anything but they didn’t seem to be so upset anymore.

 

The rise of Rome started with disregard to family, and ended with extreme, undue loyalty to family. Hence why Romulus was surprised to see two young boys. He knew who they were, how could he not? They looked so generic, unremarkable, yet so beautiful, perfect, unmarred and vaguely inhuman. And of course, they had the telltale curl sticking out of the side of their head. 

He looked at them, grasping each other tightly in defiance of the stranger who had sought them out. He sighed and knelt by them. Despite the wars he’d seen, the countless deaths of loved ones, he couldn’t bring himself to do what Julus had done to him hundreds of years ago. 

“You two are brothers, no? What are your names?” He made sure to speak with a smile. 

The shorter one with lighter hair spoke up, “I’m Felician--” 

The taller cut him off, “Fratello, shut up. Don’t talk to strangers.”

He couldn’t help but smile at the rougher, more cautious attitude he showed, how it reminded him of Remus. “What a good boy you are to listen to your parents. I can tell that you’ll be a good nation. Both of you.”

“Nation?”

“Yes. You two have a long journey ahead of you. But please, promise me that you won’t kill each other. Love each other and work hard to be great founders. You’ll have to live with what you’ve done for a long time.” He gave a gentle smile to them before standing and walking away. Maybe those two wouldn’t kil.

**Author's Note:**

> does anyone even read hetalia anymore? it was the shit when i was in middle school. i forgot most of the human names though, but in reading the s. italy wikia, i fell in love with him again. idk. whatever.


End file.
